Tag Archive | fiction

Belle Fatalité (Bella’s POV)

“I should get a promotion,” Bella said glancing at her handiwork then the blood glazing her hands. Bella was the name she had taken in her days as an executioner. Short for the nightshade she so favored during her executions. She reveled in fact that only he knew her true name.

The woman narrowed her eyes, the dim lighting making it difficult to discern the figure crouching beside what she assumed to be one of her fatales.

“Bloody hell,” the figure said, their voice deep, if not darker than the nightshade itself.

Her heart sped wildly even as his name snaked between her teeth.

“Ace Moncoeur,” she whispered.

Bella folded her hands under her breast before turning her gaze toward the unnatural scarlet of the blood moon. Figures Queen Katherine would send Ace after her. In the current day and age it was rare to find a lone detective in the remnants of England. Most stuck together in packs while other formed teams of three men, all which the Queen called the Royal Guard. A bloody muddle of incompetent dogs should you ask Bella.

Bella turned her attention back to Ace. Of course, England did have its exceptions. She listened as he growled out her name and stepped forward. “Congratulations, Mr. Moncoeur,” she said as loud as her voice would afford. Her slow methodical clapping caught his immediate attention. “Only you would know a poison from scent alone.”

Ace dug into side of his suit before removing a clean handkerchief from his pocket. “Was it absolutely necessary to kill the children, Lady Dame?” His calm countenance unnerved Bella but she refused to show it.

Bella took another step until she was sure Ace could see her dirtied hands in the dim light. “I quite prefer Bella,” she said, “and you know my rule, Mr. Moncouer.”

Bella felt herself smile at his furrowed brow as Ace growled in annoyance.

“All that defy me must perish,” she continued, “Nothing better than an off-with-their-heads sentence to clear a misdeed.”

“They were innocents, Bella,” Ace gritted through clenched teeth. “Most not even residents of this country, let alone this town. Are your intentions to start an international incident?”

Bella yawned at his persistence to guilt her. This talk was becoming a bore. “Call them whatever you will, but… those people were not innocent,” she stated with a wave of her hand. “Any town craven enough to brow beat a young girl into submission deserves a good murder or two.”

Ace tightened his fingers as if around an imaginary throat. The thought enticed a small chuckle as she was willing to bet it was her throat he wished to strangle.


Belle Fatalité (Ace’s POV)

Ace refused to believe his eyes as he walked the dimly lit streets of Curiosity Corner. Bodies lined the cobblestone from entrance to end, red trickling from their neckline down to pool on the cobble-lined ground.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered the expletive.

He was too late. It seemed the blasted woman hadn’t planned on waiting for Ace to crack the code before carrying out her execution.

Ace kneeled beside a young child, allowing his gloved fingers to trace the red ring around the child’s throat. A slight sniff and Ace felt his countenance darken.


She always had liked to make mess of his investigations with a special type of poison.

“Congratulations, Mr. Moncoeur,” a feminine voice said from the Corner’s darkest end. Her slow prudent clapping made Ace turn to look at her. “Only you would know a poison from scent alone.”

Ace removed a handkerchief from his breast pocket and polished away the blood. “Was it absolutely necessary to kill the children, Lady Dame?”

The woman stepped forward until only her mouth and hands – gloved in red and white – shown in the dimmed light of a street post. “I quite prefer Bella, and you know my rule, Mr. Moncoeur.”

Bella smiled. The taciturn pull at the corner of her threadlike lips had Ace furrowing his brow and growling.

“All that defy me must perish,” she said, “Nothing better than an off-with-their-heads sentence to clear a misdeed.”

“They were innocents, Bella,” Ace ground out, “Most not even residents of this country, let alone this town. Are your intentions to start an international incident?”

Bella yawned and waved a hand in dismissal.  “Call them whatever you will, but… those people were not innocent,” she said. “Any town craven enough to browbeat a young girl into submission deserves a good murder or two.”

Ace clenched a fist at his side at Bella’s callous reply. “A couple of people bully one girl and suddenly a whole town deserves to die?” he asked, his nerves damn near shot.

“And I bet you’d love to know why?” The murderer smiled answering his question with one of her own. “Too bad. And I’ll let you in on a little secret, Mr. Moncoeur. I’m not done.”

Which POV best suits a story of this genre? I’m still on the fence. I’d love to hear from my readers on which way I should go before I make a decision: Ace’s POV straight through, Bella’s POV, or mix it up with both.

Arigato and ja ne,


Mistaken Twindenity

WARNING: this scene, contains MILD sexual references. If you can’t handle it this scene is not for you. Thank you for your consideration.

Ava was a bad girl. Always had been. It was part of the reason Ricky contemplated asking her out. Ava matched the level of bad ass that he’d struggled to mount his years at Icarus Co. One date with Ava could Ricky’s brand him a permanent soprano for the rest of his life. No pressure, right?

Ricky stared at the minx as she swayed, her hips compelling him to join her on the dance floor. He licked his lips before taking a swig of beer. Devil be praised he’d worn pants two sizes too big.

She glanced in Ricky’s direction, eyes glowing scarlet and forbidden. Ava held his gaze, a naughty smile playing at the corners of her lips before her attention snapped back to the DJ.

Ricky was across the bar in two snaps of a cat’s tail, pulling her from the dance floor and into the hall. “Shit,” Ricky breathed, freeing her hand from his. “Why’d you go and drag me here? You know I hate parties! I’d have declined if…”

Crimson eyes widened slightly then narrowed almost immediately. “If what?” Ava asked.

Ricky cursed again.

“I knew it.” Ava said. Turning her back to him, she tossed up a hand in goodbye. “Another dog that’s all bark, no bite.”

Ricky pinned her against the door before he could think better of it, one hand on the knob, the other just inches from Ava’s cheek. He watched as she worried her lower lip with teeth. Lovely, pink lips that Ricky just wanted to slip his tongue into and see if she tasted as good as she looked.

Ava must have sensed his thoughts. Pressing her petite body against Ricky’s hard one, Ava tilted her head enough to brush her lips with his.

Ricky’s final shred of control snapped as he pulled her roughly to him. Thrusting the closet door open, Ricky pulled Ava inside. The door clicked behind them as if with a will of its own and Ricky snapped the lock in place. He forced his hands under her shirt, feathering his way up her stomach.

Ava moaned, a sound he captured with his mouth. Ricky probed her tongue with his and felt her respond in kind. Their tongues dueled for dominance over the kiss even as Ricky’s other hand wandered beneath her skirt.

Ricky listened as Ava’s moans became louder. Each caress seemed to bring her closer to the pleasure he strove to give her.

A sudden knock on the door made Ricky pause before shouting “go away”. Ava seemed not to notice. She squeaked from the feel of his teeth rubbing against her neck, drawing on the tender skin beneath.

Another knock on the door, harder than the first drew Ava’s attention.

“Shit! Get off me, Ricky,” she shouted, but her attempt at reason was lost on Ricky.

“Dammit,” Ricky growled. “Leave already!”

He returned his attentions to the woman beneath him and began to suck on the skin of her neck.

Wood splintered around them a moment before the door gave way, slapping Ricky in midst of his head.

“What the hell…” Ricky didn’t finish his sentence. A hand fisted in his shirt and drew him up to face a pair of familiar crimson eyes.

“What the devil are you doing to Carneli”

Ricky blinked. “Carneli,” he repeated unthinkingly.

“Yes, my twin,” the woman growled in clear irritation.

To all my viewer, followers, and fans, thanks for sticking with me! You can also catch Mistaken Twindenity in the Romance section of Prose in Bloom.


Pretty Embarrassing

Mr. Gabriel stared up at the image of his thirty-something year old boss plastered to the front wall of Alice Academy and felt his face heat out of mortification. He turned to each of his five students with a tight-lipped look.

“I’m not going to yell,” Mr. Gabriel said finally, “I’m not going to scream… Except to ask who in the Devil gave you this irresponsible idea?” Yes, cursing seemed very appropriate right then. No matter how annoying his boss was, no one deserved this type of embarrassment.

Mr. Gabriel watched the boys shrink back as he shouted the last part.

Each boy began to draw circles in the dirt with his boots. Finally, the one at the farthest end spoke up. “Mrs. Summer is always getting called ugly, but when we found that picture on the internet we wanted to show everyone how pretty she looked. We wanted to see what the pic looked like against the nice mural in the cafeteria.”

“But the wall was too small so we tried shrinking it, but…” the second trailed off.

“Then we couldn’t see our favorite part,” said the third, tears budding in his eyes.

The fourth puffed up his chest. “Eventually, we concluded that for the school to realize how pretty Mrs. Summer is, we had to post a supersize on the front of the academy. It was Kip’s idea.”

Mr. Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on. No amount of college could prepare any teacher for students like this. Was it any wonder his boss called in sick first thing that morning? “Do you have anything to say for yourselves before I call your parents?”

Each boy looked at the other before glancing up at their handiwork and then back at Mr. Gabriel. “The principal looks pretty in a bikini.”

Thanks for reading!


Kissing Dogs

I’m currently working on a four part short story.
I’d love to hear thoughts on how it’s going.
::Please do not steal or rip off my idea or
characters. They are mine. Hear me

Part I

The morning sand felt bitter against Valerie’s bare toes as she did her best to match her friend, Briar’s, stride.

“He let me go, Bri,” Valerie said sullenly, stopping to kick a conch back into the waves. “Sliced my heart into microscopic, bite-sized pieces and fed them to those hyenas he calls dogs.”

Valerie’s friend sighed and spun around so that she was walking backwards while facing her. “Listen, babe, your standards are waaay too high.” Briar hauled an arm up until her hand was a half a foot taller than Valerie. “You’ve gotta come down a step or two to mingle with the living.”

Valerie frowned. It wasn’t like she asked for the snobbish set of rules that she followed. Her grandmother, peace be wherever the woman roamed, insisted her baby girl only go for the best: a curse that followed Valerie into her adult days. Sure, she’d dated here and there during her grandmother’s life, but none were ever good enough for the granny Ruse stamp of approval. After her passing, Valerie had kept the idea that a Ruse girl only deserved the best man. “I’m not asking for perfection,” she said with a huff, “Just that he’s smart, kind, nice to look at, great in bed, and able to juggle.”

Briar covered her mouth, but not before a snicker escaped. “So not perfection, but pretty damn close?”

Valerie glanced at Briar out of the corner of her eye. She was like a china doll on stilts. With her porcelain skin, waist length ebony locks, and coke bottle frame she was a dead ringer for some tall, dark perfection. But Valerie and her love of donuts and ice cream? Compared to her Miss USA best friend, Valerie was a stuffed Miss Turkey Lurkey.

Valerie felt her eye twitch in irritation. “Shut it,” she said, turning her gaze out to the ocean. “I just want him back, Bri. He was the only one I really connected with. Is that too much to…What is that?”

In the distance, a speck of orange and pink shifted against the dark azure of the Aine Ocean before vanishing beneath the waves. The speck resurfaced for one moment in a spot further out before vanishing once more. Suddenly, it hit Valerie like an elephant seal stampede: “They’re drowning!” she said, pulling the shirt over her head. For the first time, Valerie was glad she had donned her bathing suit underneath.

Briar squinted at where Valerie pointed. “What are you talking about?” Briar asked. “Nobody’s out there.”

Valerie pushed her friend in the opposite direction. “Just go get help,” she shouted before diving into the waves. Kicking and stroking her arms through the water, Valerie managed to propel herself through the water without much trouble. She knew not what had possessed her to plunge into deeper waters when she still refused to take a dip in the deep end of Briar’s pool, but Valerie had little time to ponder the reason as the orange and pink speck popped up, gasping for air, beside her.

Taking hold of the small hand, Valerie grasped the body close to her own while smoothing away dark brown tendrils of hair. “It’s alright sweetie,” Valerie cooed. “I’ve got you.”

A coarse cough spat water into Valerie’s face as a pair of charming blue eyes peered from beneath the damp curtain, with prospective tears. “No!” squeaked the child in her arms. “I w-want daddy to save me!”

Valerie wanted asked the kid if she (at least Valerie was ninety percent sure the child was a she) had been dropped one too many times. But a sharp tug on her leg drew her beneath the waves before Valerie could ask. Valerie bit the inside of her cheek as the little girl disappeared from her sight and the ocean became a prevalent taste in her nose and blood, a smell in her mouth. Sunlight filtered into the haze around her even as a shadow colored her vision.

Thanks for reading the first installment. I’ll try to have Part II ready by next week.




Feralesque and all ofit's 
characters belong to SakuraTail. 
Please do not steal or use 
them without my permission. 
Thank You

Chapter One

“There’s got to be a FFI law against this,” Valerie Ruse said. Her nose wrinkled at the overkill of onion and ketchup slathered atop a single slab of wheat—pickles and burger not included. Since her return home, questionable items had become a frequent fixing at meals. For once, Valerie thanked God for Alice Academy and its adherence to Feral Food Investigation laws.

Valerie glanced at her sister humming away at the sink. Rose never minded what others thought of her. As much was clear when her supposedly delicate older sister turned up on their parent’s doorstep—barefoot with a bun in the oven and the town wolf in tow. Valerie imagined their father—family pistol in one hand, his revolver in the other—playing “tag” down Neoma’s streets.

Jesse’s barked words brought her crashing back to the dilemma.

“Then don’t eat the damned sandwich.”

Lowering her lashes, Valerie settled against her hand and kicked up a brow at her brother-to-be. “And you were?” she purred, pointing to his own plate full.

Jesse went stone stiff as her sister chiseled him with an over-the-shoulder look. “Damn straight!” he said.

Valerie gnawed the innards of her cheek as Jesse crammed one sandwich after another down the hatch.

“Tastes great, babe,” he spoke between bites.

Shame her sister Rose didn’t own a camera.

“Valerie,” Rose said, switching gears. “Eat already. Madam will be by early this afternoon to escort you to the academy.”

“Miss two classes and suddenly you need a leash,” grumbled Valerie. Downing her sister’s concoction, she tossed back the glass of water and raised a hand goodbye.

Jessie whined. “Why does she get water?”

“Did you say something, dear?” said Rose.

“Not a word, babe.”

Heaven help Jesse should her sister ever obtain a leash.

Valerie looked up at the leaves fluttering through the lattice of branches overhead. Faintly she heard the others. A male’s coarse grunts as he pummeled out another’s brains. A female’s quiet tittering as the male received a left hook to the kisser. The word barbaric twinned around her tongue, but reckoned she’d better keep it to herself. Tempers tended to run hot during the last mating of the season.

Valerie dropped her gaze to the Math book in her lap. Once per season Alice Academy allowed a break, during which the strongest ferals chose mates in hopes of siring the next alpha. Or as her mother so aptly called it, “bastard season”. Her father swayed to a similar tune when it came to his girls. Valerie recalled the ditch in the front yard accompanied by a boulder with “He was her first” scrawled into the rock. Valerie chewed her lip at the thought.

“Welcome back, halfling.”

“Hell to you too,” said Valerie. Lapping at her index, she thumbed to the next page. “Don’t you have yarn ball to chase, Simmy?”

“It’s Si-mon-e,” Simone snorted.  “Lady Simone. It stands your kind would never know how to address nobility.”

“Don’t know, don’t care…” Valerie shrugged.

Much as it pained Valerie to say, Simone wasn’t entirely misguided. Neoma ferals and humans remained under the law of “nobility”, a pedigree that ranked both by lineage as well as wits and strength. Neoman’s considered humans the lowest of order, and only mated with humans under certain circumstances. Such children were gifted with a special name – one Valerie hated with every cell in her body.

“Look halfbreed—”

A husky voice interrupted from behind. “Valerie.”

Pulled flush against a very lean, very muscular chest, a familiar spice of Creed and warm vanilla teased her senses. “Kenneth!” Valerie breathed. “What are yo—”

“Shhhh…” he said, his breath warm against her left ear. “Allow me to handle this.”

“Really, Kenny?” sneered Simone. “Surely you have better tastes than this.”

“I must agree,” said Kenneth. Simone batted her lashes and gave a shy gap-toothed grin. “My tastes, however, find your craven attempt at browbeating shameless. I suggest, Simone, you find a different target for your time of the month.”

Simone tightened her lips.

Valerie sensed she was the idiot holding a rod amidst lightning as they glared each other down.

Finally, hefting her freckle peppered nose skyward, Simone turned and walked past them.

Kenneth chuckled against her neck. A rich sound that sent chills through her toes and back. “Catch you later, hellcat.”

Valerie gazed after Kenneth as he ran to a group of guys, slapping palms with them. She shook her head. If she ever came to fathom this male’s behavior, it’d be too soon.

“Kenneth Parker thinks he’s all that and a big bag of cat nip just ‘cause his father was Neoma’s last alpha,” said Simone. Valerie bit back a scream as Simone materialized behind her.

Valerie gripped her book tight, hard pressed to ignore the musings of the scorned molly.

“But he’s a flirt,” Simone continued. “An incorrigible tom who’d sooner serve a skirt than his country.”

Thwack! Valerie watched the blood drip from Simone’s cheek, the beat of her pulse increasing as the smell of urine became strong. “Shut it,” said Valerie. Drawing back bloodied knuckles, she opened and closed it a few times before dropping it to her side. “Talking as if you know everyone from the core. Tch! That’s all you full-blood brats know. Throw shade and talk shit.”

“Y-you can’t talk to me like that!” squeaked Simone. “Who do you think you are?”

Valerie tilted her head, a smile tilting her lips.

Simone shivered. “Madam Rezina!” she cried.

Valerie shrugged. Turned heel and walked back toward the fence. She could still feel Simone’s gaze burning holes into her back as she vaulted over and back into the trees behind the school.


Find Feralesque in Romance on sakuratales.com.